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A friend of mine turned down my offer to go see Civil War, but his reasons have stuck with me. “It’s so wrong in the current situation.”
This friend is certainly not a difficult person. I’ve never heard him shy away from anything before, whether it’s art or venturing into the biting winds of a winter camping trip.
About halfway through, I realized what he meant and started wishing I had skipped this one too. It’s not that the movie was that bad. I just felt sad. It’s a shame that this movie had the nerve to treat such extreme but possible topical concerns with such indifference.
Civil War is the worst kind of Hollywood movie, the worst art form, a noble but empty attempt to capture emotion with little interest in getting to the point.
What the filmmakers are going for here is definitely something heady and heavy, but it doesn’t go any deeper than a kiddie pool in a backyard. I wish this had the self-aware sincerity of films like White House Down and The Purge, modern American dystopian films that explicitly seek the same light-hearted thrills as a carnival merry-go-round. Well, that’s fine.
But Civil War tries to prove that it’s a serious movie by throwing in a wide range of ideas. Themes explore journalistic ethics, adrenaline existentialism, the cyclical nature of the profession, and, of course, America’s divisions.
I’ve visited 45 places in the United States, and I continue to meet people who believe in unity everywhere I go. We have fundamental disagreements. I tend to be a little skewed in my political beliefs, which I’m sure will come as a shock to anyone who has read my writing for any length of time. But I and the people I meet have one thing in common: we want to live our lives. Live with pride and courtesy. But I feel, as always, that our fellow countrymen are friendly and understanding, but that our government and, frankly, Hollywood, the largest arts distribution company, are splitting up to increase their profits. I find myself eager to get rid of it.
I had a hard time expressing the tingling anxiety I felt in this movie. But what I eventually realized was that it was always doomed by being such awful white elephant art that it could never rid itself of subjectivity.
But as the movie progressed and my anger smoldered, I tried to narrow my focus to the technical aspects. Some of the performances were above average, most notably Kirsten Dunst as famed wartime photographer Lee Smith and the all-too-overlooked Stephen Henderson. As a smart journalist. The script’s approach to journalistic responsibility is to be admired for its comprehensive look. Additionally, a notable early scene in which a bomb explodes during a confrontation in New York City has the sound cut out, forcing viewers to ponder our nation’s morality.
But almost every other creative decision by director Alex Garland was either sleazy or flat-out wrong.
Using anamorphic lenses is especially tricky. When framing a person in a medium wide shot, this technique tends to drown out the surrounding clutter and allow you to focus on the person. Here, instead of bringing us closer to them, it just makes them feel distant, preventing the intimacy that should be achieved as the audience grows closer to the maligned protagonist.
The third act is the strongest, building to a predictable and thrilling conclusion. There, a neat and serendipitous story also unfolds, with Leigh’s need to be taken care of while her young protégé Jesse Cullen (Kylee Spaeny) deftly advances. Again, the film’s technology wasn’t too bad. Admittedly nothing special, but definitely good enough.
What is so frustrating is Garland’s callous treatment of the subject. As if our nation’s violent implosion was a nihilistic inevitability, the audience must find a way to understand that our nation’s militaristic love ultimately extends domestically. ,That’s what it means.
Currently, the United States is promoting military operations in seven countries. Somalia, Yemen, Iraq, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Syria, Libya. If we include the aid we are providing to Ukraine and Israel, we have two more, for a total of nine. I was born too young to fight in a war in the Middle East, I lived long enough to be old enough to fight in a war in the Middle East, and ultimately, no matter how the war unfolds, I was born too late and will probably end up enlisting in the military. It continues in the Middle East.
When will this end? And why are we all feeling so comfortable with it?
What would it mean for the great powers to have another war at home? Cheap cash grab.
Critic Score: 3.7/10
Jack Simon is a big time coach and writer/director who enjoys eating food while you’re broke, traveling to off-budget places, and creating art about skiing, food, and travel. Check out his website jacksimonmakes.com to see Jack’s Jitney Travelogue series. For all kinds of inquiries, please send an email to jackdocsimon@gmail.com.
